


After

by Redrogue55



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, Bucky Barnes-centric, F/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Endgame, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-09-23 02:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20332852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrogue55/pseuds/Redrogue55
Summary: Set after the events of Endgame. Bucky Barnes meets the descendant of Peggy and Steve, and refuses to admit there might be something there. With her help, there just might be a life after Cap in this modern world for a brainwashed centennial assassin. Bucky/OC





	1. Chapter 1

**Introduction: The End of the Line**

**~RR~**

James Buchanan Barnes, or "Bucky" as he was more commonly known, was not intimidated by much, but today, found himself intimidated by a doorknob. It was made of a familiar brass and crystal, as may now have been considered antique. Sam put a hand on Bucky's shoulder as Bucky inhaled deeply. The air conditioning whirred in the all-too-quiet room, the air thick and heavy as his breath. He'd never been a fan of Southern humidity. Or their hospitality, for that matter. Was he ready to face those on the other side?

"You know, we don't have to do this." Sam's voice rang out behind him, sounding distant.

"Yeah... we do." Bucky countered back somberly. He clutched the doorknob with all the bravery he could muster, and opened the door. Bucky had been through many things, but nothing hurt more than this. The flowers, the pictures in shiny frames, and him, right in the center. Steve was being buried with his last suit, the same suit he had fought beside at an airport, long ago. His plot was already picked out, right next to Peggy's, just the way he wanted it. Bucky laid his dark, metal hand on the cherry wood of the coffin, wishing he could feel the fabrics of the American flag draped over it. He lowered his head, not being able to stand the sight. Sam came next to him quietly, and did the same. There were no words.

A small, wrinkled woman, soon appeared in the room. She held white flowers in her hands, matching the white of her hair. Her eyes were gentle and kind, and familiar to Bucky. She had Steve's kind and burdened eyes.

"I can easily figure out who you two are," she greeted with a fond smile. "My father and the stories he had, you both are practically legendary."

"You must be Angie." Sam offered his hand quickly, while Bucky remained stunned.

"Sarah, the youngest," she gently corrected. "You two take as long as you need."

As she turned to leave, Sam smiled at Bucky, ribbing him a bit with his elbow.

"Wow, our boy got a little busy, huh? Good for him, you know?"

Bucky would've snickered, but didn't have the heart. He simply stared down into the cold emptiness of Steve's face. He was unrecognizable to him now, with his greyish skin and stern expression. Bucky lamented the loss, not only of his dearest friend, but of the last link to his past and a time before he was the 'Winter Soldier'. He had officially outlived everyone from his previous life, from his childhood, and it was a tough pill to swallow. Even with Sam at his side, he couldn't help but feel alone.

"Hey Grandma," said a woman in the far doorway, grabbing at Sarah to call her attention. "The priest is confused on when the '21 Gun Salute' is happening and I didn't know what to tell him."

The young woman caught eyes with Bucky, seemingly surprised at the presence of strangers.

"Oh, I'll talk to Patrick, but do me a favor and offer these two gentleman something to eat. They are your grandfather's oldest friends."

As the older woman scurried off, her granddaughter lingered, eyeing the two men with confusion.

"Aren't you guys a bit young to be my great grandfather's 'oldest' friends?"

"It's a very long story," Sam interceded. "A good story, but a long one. Get your mom to sit you down with it sometime."

"I will," she agreed, still eyeing Sam suspiciously, then held out her hand to him. "I'm Sarah."

"Sam, and this is Bucky," Sam explained, slapping an encouraging hand on Bucky's back.

Bucky offered his hand for her to shake, and he finally looked the woman in the eye. She peered at him with a strange, hesitant gaze before taking his offered hand. Something in her eyes… They were blue eyes, with just a glimmer of green, just like...

"You can let go now, Bucky," Sam chuckled, tapping at Bucky's wrist after his handshake had gone on too long for comfort.

"Your name is Sarah too?" Bucky asked.

"Yeah..." she said, still squinting warily. "It's a family name."

Bucky couldn't help but stare. She was just like him. Not in looks, no, that was more from her mother's side. Those were Peggy's same dark locks, the determined gaze, the unrelenting posture and stiff British composure. But there was a soft spirit about her, a soul that he knew.

"I'm sorry," Bucky finally broke his eyeline. "You just remind me of him a little."

Sam stepped a bit more between them.

"Don't mind him, he's not from around here," he interjected. "And trust me, you don't bring your great-grandfather to _my_ mind in ANY way. Now, was there some mention of food I heard?"

She went off with Sam agreeably, but not without looking over her shoulder back at Bucky just before she went out the door.

"It was nice to meet you, Bucky," she called out just before she left his eyesight.

Bucky sighed again and turned back to Steve's open casket.

"You dog. You couldn't just leave me alone, could you?" He knocked the red wood of his casket twice for luck. "'Til the end of the line, pal."

**~RR~**

**Please do me the great honor of leaving a review.**  
**Greatly appreciated!  
** **-RedRogue55**


	2. Chapter 2: The First Stab of Guilt

Bucky pushed his mashed potatoes around his flowered porcelain plate, letting it tumble over the sliced ham and vegetables forlornly. He had found a peaceful moment alone on the front steps of the quaint funeral home that Steve's wake was being held. Unfortunately, moments of quiet never lasted too long these days, and Sam was soon making his way down the steps to him.

"There you are," Sam huffed as he made himself comfortable beside him. He was already halfway finished with his food, enjoying his vegetables in a carefree way. "Just got off the phone with Bruce, he's knee-deep in some secret science stuff but sends his best."

Bucky remained despondent, seizing the silence while he still could.

"Look man, I get that you're sad," Sam went on. "I'm sad too. But he was growing weaker for a long time, and now he finally gets to rest. He had a great life, a real great life. I mean, he had us, am I right? Great life."

Bucky put his fork down to take a bite out of a bread roll. Still, he didn't respond. Sam would never truly understand, never truly know the depth of loss that Bucky was experiencing. Sam didn't save that scrawny soldier's soul from bullies in the alley on the way home from school where they had first met. He didn't know Steve's mother, or what her cooking smelled like on holidays. Didn't see Steve struggle with English essays, or what atrocious suit he had worn to his first dance, or shake hands knowingly with his first crush. He didn't see this man fight Nazi's tooth and nail to save him from remaining in the wrong hands. He didn't get frozen in ice and wake up in the wrong decade, only to find your best friend was still fighting loyally to remain your friend after all those years, even when everyone else thought your mind was lost. How could he ever fathom the type of friend that was?

Still, given the chance, something told Bucky that Sam would've been that type of friend to Steve too. It was just not a fate that had been his. Thank God for that, really.

"Real handsome family he has in there, huh?" Sam tried again. "Strong genes. Is it weird that I'm kind of into Sarah?"

Bucky looked at Sam with a frown. Oh, yeah, and then there was that matter too. How could he even begin to process that?

"Yes, it is weird," Bucky shot out curtly, with strong meaning behind it.

Sam chewed for a moment, thoughtfully.

"Yeah, you're probably right," he agreed half-heartedly.

** ~RR~ **

As Bucky set the plate beside a sink with others of its own kind, he observed the young Sarah talking to a relative. She had a smile on the edges of her lips, dimples in warm, rosy cheeks. She wore a modest navy dress that was still kind to her shape. Everything in her screamed warmth, sweetness, familiarity. She truly was beautiful, in more ways than Bucky could begin to comprehend. Normally, he would have found an excuse to leave by now, but he found himself wanting to stay. He couldn’t get over how familiar she felt…

Though, he felt out of place just standing around staring, so he grabbed a sponge and began to scrub at his dirty plate.

Moments later, a hand reached out for his, freezing him in his tracks.

"Please, don't," Sarah begged. "You really don't have to do that."

She took a moment to gawk at her hand on his metal one, allowing her fingers trace the lines of metal, but eventually taking the sponge from it.

"Besides," she giggled. "Won't you rust or something?"

Bucky heard himself snicker. He had chuckled at Steve's wake. Something he never would have dreamed.

"It's a special metal," he explained. "Doesn't rust."

"Well, you’re an honored guest," she stated firmly. "And according to Grandma, guests don't do dishes."

Bucky suddenly didn't know what to do with his arms, awkwardly throwing them into his pockets instead of having them hang around, useless. She looked at him as looking right through him, and he felt uncomfortable under her attention. A glance up at her told him that she wasn't uncomfortable at all, gazing up at him without relent.

"So, you and Grandpa Steve go way back, huh?”

“Yeah…” Bucky fought an amused grin. “_Way_ back.”

“Seems a shame he didn’t invite you to more family functions."

"We... I..." Bucky stumbled over words. "It's complicated."

She laughed, a good hearty laugh.

"Wow," she shook her head. "That's exactly what he used to say."

Her eyes narrowed, and she leaned closer to his face as if to tell a secret. He stopped breathing.

"If you have a few minutes, I’d love to pick your brain on a few things…"

Bucky was immediately more uncomfortable than before.

"I should really be getting going."

"Please," she pleaded, her hand reaching for him again. "I’d love to know someone who meant so much to him."

Bucky's constitution crumbled under her hopeful look. After a moment of searching her expression, he sighed and caved.

"Do you have something to write with?"

** ~RR~ **

After the wake, Bucky realized the S.H.E.I.L.D. compound was the last place he wanted to return to. Luckily, Sam had once offered to let him stay in his extra room, and Bucky finally decided to take him up on the invitation.

Sam hurried through the front door in search of extra blankets for him. Sam was talking, but Bucky's mind was elsewhere, as he observed his strange new surroundings. He couldn't help but reach out and touch the TV, the large leather couch... he picked up the 'Beats' headphones from Sam's nearby desk, the leftover Starbucks coffee cup. They were things he had seen before, but still didn't quite understand. He felt like a stray... just so displaced in a world that didn't feel real yet, even after all these years.

As usual, it took him hours to finally drift off to sleep. He woke with the morning sun, and helped himself to a shower. He thought about Sarah as he stood completely still under the hot water. He thought of her hand on his metal one, how he ached to know what that would have felt like on his actual skin.

Suddenly, he felt his first stab of guilt over the matter. Would Steve have approved if he was alive? Bucky had never had a problem with the ladies back in their heyday... would Steve have insisted he should pursue someone else... _anyone_ else? Somehow, that didn't sound like the Steve he had known. So, why the guilt?

Bucky turned the shower faucet off. He decided to put it as far away from his mind as he could. He had only spoken to her for mere moments anyhow. It was nothing.

He was just buttoning his pants closed when Sam walked into the room.

"Hey, man," he said with a serious tone. "You're gonna want to come into the living room."

Bucky was throwing a maroon shirt on over his head as he entered the common area. There was Nick Fury, sitting on an armchair before him. Bucky quietly helped himself to a seat next to Sam on the couch, and let Fury speak first.

"I wish I could say the world was quiet on a day like this," He said slowly, ominously, as only he could. "Unfortunately, the passing of the world's greatest heroes only encourages the bad guys to come out of the woodwork even more."

Sam and Bucky exchanged glances, sighed together. They knew what was coming next.

"Don't worry, I already paid my respects," Fury assured them with a firm nod. He handed Bucky a folder with a bold, red 'classified' stamped across the front. "I thought you might appreciate the distraction. Not to mention, this one directly concerns you."

Bucky opened the folder as Sam peeked over his shoulder.

"Sergei Kravinoff?" Sam read aloud. "Do you know him?"

"Bucky here, might know him as another name," Fury answered for him. "Kraven the Hunter. He was a soviet assassin who was given the same serum as the other Winter Soldiers."

"I thought Zemo killed all of you guys back when?" Sam asked in confusion.

"Kraven was never part of the program," Bucky replied. "He was discharged for being... unstable. From my understanding, he was declared deceased."

"So were you," Fury retorted.

Bucky digested the comment for a moment, seeing his point.

"So, you want us to find the guy?" Sam guessed.

"Actually, I came here to give you a head's up," Fury corrected, and turned his attention back to Bucky. "Word is, he's coming to find _you_."

"Why?" Bucky drew back.

"Apparently," Fury leaned forward in his chair. "He wants to be the only one left in this world with the Serum. So long as you're alive, he's not the best. If I were you, I would keep my eyes open. Wide open. One of his aliases bought a plane ticket to Washington D.C. twelve hours ago. I think he wants you to know he's coming for you."

Bucky looked at the floor.

"He was waiting for Steve's death," he surmised. "Why?"

"Perhaps there's a part of him that likes being celebrated for being- well, whatever he is. There might be people who would have hated him for killing the great Captain America, especially since he wasn't exactly a threat anymore. However, killing a war criminal... might be another story."

"Guess you should avoid well-populated public areas," Sam added.

** ~RR~ **

** Please do me the great honor of leaving a review. ** ****   
**Greatly appreciated!**  
** -RedRogue **


	3. The Attack

~RR~

“Naw, man, you’re still holding the controller wrong, you gotta hold it like I am…”  
“I’m trying, Sam, but it’s not working!”  
“You can’t blame the hardware, man, that’s a rookie move.”  
Bucky let out a hefty sigh and threw himself into the back of Sam’s armchair in frustration. The pair was trying to occupy their time with something Sam considered a ‘game’ but Bucky wasn’t in the mood for learning another space age contraption that simulated the violence he was trying his best to distance himself from.  
It had been almost a week since Bucky had been outdoors, and he was past the point of stir-crazy. He looked longingly out the window as his avatar on the TV screen idled.  
Sam put his controller down.  
“I know, man, this waiting around thing is…” Sam let himself trail off.  
“Not like us.” Bucky finished for him.  
“It’s like we’re just waiting for something to go--”  
Sam cut himself off at the sound of his phone ringing, a familiar chime of a rotary phone he had probably set for Steve’s recognition a long time ago.  
“Wilson,” he answered in a routine tone. His face fell serious which made Bucky sit back upright in his seat.  
“Where are you now?” Sam was on his feet grabbing his coat and signaling Bucky to follow suit. “Alright, stay there.”  
Sam hit the button to end the call, and faced Bucky with an expression of shock.

~RR~

“I still can’t believe you gave her my number,” Sam complained again as he pulled off the freeway en route to Sarah’s house. “We need to get you your phone already, Casanova.”  
“I don’t like ‘em,” Bucky countered back with a sigh. “The screens are complicated and everything’s too small.”  
“Steve handled just fine with a little flip phone, so can you, and that’s the end of it.”  
As Bucky and Sam arrived on the scene, Sarah was already rushing down the front stairs of the quaint suburban house. She weaved her way through the small crowd of uniformed officers and detectives and threw herself on Sam, soaking his shoulder with tears.  
“I didn’t know who else to call,” she sobbed.  
Bucky walked ahead as Sam did his best to console the woman in his arms. He cautiously walked up to the front door, where he was stopped by a policeman just finishing up putting up the yellow tape. Bucky was still able to look around him to the living room, and his breath caught at the gruesome sight before him.  
The body of Sarah’s grandmother was lifeless on the floor, a pooling of blood around her that was soaking into the outdated orange carpet under her. Bucky gulped back a lump in his throat, as he tried his best to look for other traces of clues. He was surprised at how deep this moment was hitting him, as he saw the pictures of Steve with his daughters on the walls, the antique Captain America memorabilia proudly displayed in scattered wooden cabinets about the room. She had been proud of her father, that much was obvious.  
Steve hadn’t been buried in the ground a week and Bucky already felt like he had failed him, and his legacy.  
“She wasn’t answering the phone,” he heard Sarah’s weak voice sniffling to Sam. “I came by to check but it was already too late. I figured it must be something to do with Great Grandpa Steve’s past… that’s why I thought of you two--”  
BANG!  
All attention swerved to the sound of a gunshot being fired inside the house. It was quickly silenced with the sound of something metal entering a man’s flesh and the crash of a body falling limply to the floor. Policeman rushed towards the sound, more gunshots followed. Both Sam and Bucky hurried into the house, no longer thwarted by procedure, but no sooner had they stepped fully into the living room, when all went quiet again.  
“He’s on the roof--!” another cop shouted from the front yard, and a distinct female scream followed.  
BOOM!  
Bucky and Sam were just whirling around to face the assailant but were launched forward at the sound of a booming grenade detonating inside the house, hurling them down the porch stairs.  
Bucky spat out his face-full of grass and spotted a pistol on the ground in front of him. He quickly reached his metal arm to retrieve it, but hesitated at the small clinking sound of something striking it but bouncing off. He grabbed the object for quick inspection, a tiny metal needle with a red feather on it. Poison dart?  
A shadow coming from the corner of his eye prompted him to roll in escape, just in time to avoid the flying figure stabbing down with a spear. Bucky got a quick glance at the large attacker, some gruff, filthy-looking man in leather and wearing a lion’s pelt around his shoulders. He stabbed the last policeman that came towards him, then ducked as Sam’s small remote-controlled bird fired stinging shots at him, while Sam himself was fishing through the trunk of their car for his wing-pack. Kraven sliced easily through Redwing and pulled out another grenade to throw at Sam, but Sarah caught his attention with the whiz of a bullet by his face.  
Kraven was superhumanly fast with that spear he held, knocking the pistol from Sarah’s hands and just as swiftly lunging at her shoulder. As Sarah cried out, Bucky just barely managed to block Kraven with his good hand before the spearhead pierced her fully, and crushed the weapon in the fist of his metal one. He spotted Kraven already firing another dart his way, and like a magician, had already pulled out another large blade out of nowhere. It was all Bucky could do but keep up with his lightning movements, the stabs of the machete and the low kicks took every ounce of his dormant training to keep at bay.  
“Bucky, fall back!” he heard Sam call out, and Bucky dove away from Kraven in time for Sam to rain bullets down on him, flying overheard in full ‘Falcon’ regalia. Kraven, knowing he was out-gunned, quickly retreated towards the forest line behind the house, disappearing behind a cloud of black smoke. Sam flew carefully after him into the trees, but soon opted to walk on foot, using his heat vision to track him.  
“He’s used some sort of cloaking,” Sam called out. “I’m not getting any signature.”  
Bucky let his shoulder’s fall, trying to catch his breath as siren’s blared in the distance. He trusted Sam’s word to deem it safe enough to check on Sarah. She was profusely bleeding, but had already torn off a sleeve to wrap around as makeshift bandaging.  
She looked up at Bucky, bravely holding her gaze, breathing heavily through her discomfort, and her eyes said it all. Sadness, pain, disbelief… all molded together to form a deeper level of anger. Bucky knew the feeling well.  
“You should--” he uttered gently between panting. “You should probably come with us.” 

~RR~

After the Avengers Compound had been destroyed, S.H.E.I.L.D. had relocated them back to Stark Tower, thanks to the gracious joined effort buyback of Mrs. Stark. It seemed the easiest solution while the Compound was being rebuilt on Tony’s old blueprints, though his technology was far advanced and took a lot of effort from Dr. Banner for the follow-through. It seemed Bruce welcomed the challenge, as it likely helped him ease the grief of the loss of Tony, not to mention Natasha, and now Steve as well.  
There were few left besides Banner that actually remained living in the actual tower. Those who were from space had returned to it, Clint and Scott were home with their families, Strange and T’Challa were tending to their elsewhere responsibilities, and the little one had gone back to school. Only Wanda floated around the building like a ghost, and soon even she left on what she called a ‘vacation’.  
Dr. Banner met them at the elevator after they had reached the laboratory floor, and quickly had Sarah sitting on a hospital bed to care for her wounds. Even though his large Hulk hands were double the side of her face, his touch was still skilled and tender. She was obviously was concentrating hard on not staring at her giant green physician.  
“I’ve heard of this guy,” Bruce nodded when Sam had finished describing the attack. “Peter mentioned an altercation with him before. I believe the word he used was ‘unrelenting’. He wasn’t able to beat him.”  
“I hate to admit it, but neither were we,” Sam admitted. “He was fast, and he’s got some serious training on him, for sure. And some badass weaponry. He wasn’t playin’ no games.”  
“Except for these darts,” Bruce adjusted his glasses higher on his nose, peering closer at the liquid inside of the darts on a microscope slide. “You’re wrong-- They aren’t poison. It’s just ketamine.”  
Bucky and Sam exchanged glances, hoping the other would give a hint to the definition of the word.  
“Tranquilizer,” Bruce explained.  
This time, Bucky and Sam shared worried glances. If this master hunter wasn’t using lethal force on Bucky, it could only mean one thing: he was hired for capture. To Bucky, that almost felt worse. Was Hydra still out there? Were they trying to get their property back? Who else could it be?  
Bucky took a deep worried sigh, turning his back on the others to lean with both hands on a counter.  
“So,” Sarah spat out, horrified. “My grandmother died, all those cops died, I almost died, just so this psychopath mercenary could get to him? That’s barbaric.”  
Her words lingered in the air, as a silence filled the room.  
“Is this like a typical Thursday to you guys or what?” she demanded. “I don’t know how it usually goes down here in ‘Hero-Land’ so maybe one of you can enlighten me?”  
The men were silent, almost afraid to answer. Sarah hung her head and let out a huff, starting over.  
“What I mean to say is, how are we going to get this son of a bitch?”  
Sam and Bruce looked each other with some surprise.  
“I- I’m sorry- ‘we’?” Sam repeated.  
“Surely, you have a spare flying suit lying around here somewhere. You expect me to just sit on my ass while this guy comes after me? After my family?”  
“While I appreciate the ‘gung ho’ attitude,” Sam waved a hand to calm her. “Let’s leave this to the trained professionals, shall we?”  
“So, train me.” She folded her arms in determination.  
“Bruce?” Sam’s voice ached for support. “You’re the ‘senior Avenger’ around here…”  
Bruce threw his hands up.  
“Hey, I don’t want to be called ‘senior’ anything, if you don’t mind. But you ask me, she sounds like she’s doing this with or without us, so we might as well give her some armor and a few pointers, you know?”  
Sam sighed in dislike, and directed his attention to his last hope in the room.  
“Bucky…?”  
Bucky was lost in his own nightmares, struggling not to break the metal countertop with his shaking grip. His mind was racing, flashing with memories long suppressed, the violence, the gore, the terror, the screaming, the screaming--  
“You okay, man?”  
Bucky awoke from his trance and tuned himself back into the world around him. He loosened his grip on the counter, glancing at the large dent his metal arm had made. Sam had risen from his nearby seat to go closer to Bucky. He cautiously put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, offering a small comfort as he came back to reality.  
“You’re not going back there, man,” Sam assured him in a voice just above a whisper. “Never again. I won’t let them take you. I promise you that. You got it?”  
Bucky finally met Sam’s eye, and gave him a weak grin in thanks.  
Bruce patted Sarah on the back at her sympathetic expression, trying to stay ahead of her questions.  
“I’ll fill you in later,” Bruce promised. “Right now, I should probably go make a phone call.”

~RR~

Please do me the great honor of leaving a review.  
Greatly appreciated!  
-RedRogue


End file.
